307th New Years Eve Ball
by Gratiae
Summary: Spencer spends New Years Eve with Calliope at her party. Fluff and "meeting the family" - uh oh! Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaim****er: I do not own Criminal Minds.**

**A/N: This takes place within Chapter 3 of **_**Mystery Muse -**_** after the flashback (and after the one shot **_**Christmas Embers**_**) and before the regular action of Chapter 3.**

* * *

_"Happiness is not having what you want. It's wanting what you have." - Unknown_

o o o o

31 December, 2008

Looking in the mirror again, he adjusted the tie again before pulling it off and tossing it onto the table. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and unbuttoned the white button-down shirt and tugged it off, tossing it by the tie.

"What the hell does 'dressy casual' mean anyway?" Spencer picked up the invitation again.

_Dr. Spencer Reid_

_You are cordially invited_

_as Calliope Sellers' date to_

_Dahlia Plantations'_

_307__th__ Annual New Years Eve Ball_

_7 P.M. December 31, 2008_

_R.S.V.P. by December 22__nd_

_Dressy Casual_

Searching 'dressy casual' on the web had proven less than helpful, in fact, it had only helped in escalating his confusion. One site claimed one definition, another declared it something different, and a third offered yet another explanation. For something that could be so useful, the internets ineffectiveness could be overwhelming.

He picked up his cell and punched in J.J.'s number. Looking through his closet, he waited until she picked up on the fourth ring.

"Happy New Years Eve, Spence!"

"You too, J.J."

"What's up? I thought you were going out with Calliope. I still haven't met her, by the way."

"I know, I'm sorry. But I really need some help."

"Dr. Reid needs help from a mere mortal?"

"I'm serious, J.J. I don't know what to wear."

"Ok, where are you going?"

"It's a party she and her Grandfather throw every year. The invite says 'dressy casual.' What does that mean? I can't figure it out."

"Go with a pair of black slacks. Do you remember that grey sport coat you got when we went shopping like two years ago?"

"Um… the tweed one?"

"Yes. That one."

"It's at the cleaners."

"What about the khaki jacket?"

"I ruined that one when I spilt espresso. You were there. That case in San Deigo a few months ago."

"You really do have no coordination."

"J.J., c'mon, make fun of me later!"

"What are you so worried about, Spence? She knows what you look like. You've been with her for a few months now, if your style was going to scare her off it already would have."

"This is the first time I'm meeting her friends, J.J. I don't want to screw this up and it's already 4:15. I have to leave by five to get to Williamsburg on time. I need your help."

"Tell you what, give me fifteen minutes and I'll be there."

"Thanks J.J."

"I'll see you in a few."

ooo ooo ooo ooo

It took J.J. all of five minutes before she started pulling items from his closet as Spencer held baby Henry.

"Pink shirt? No, no, not pink. Blue shirt, definitely blue. Got it. This one – teal. This is a nice shirt. Slacks... slacks…. Slate grey? I think so…" J.J. was mumbling aloud to herself as she picked things out and put them on the bed.

"You better get your ability to make decisions from your mom, Henry. She's like a machine," Spencer told the boy, kissing the top of the bald head, as Henry watched the glittering of J.J.'s bracelet, mesmerized and drooling.

"Where do you keep your ties?"

"Second drawer from the top."

"Ohhhh, lavender and yellow plaid. When did you get this? This is great."

"Uh, a week ago? I don't remember. I was with Calliope in Macys and somehow I ended up buying it. I don't know how. How does she do that to me?"

"It's a female thing. Just run with it," J.J. told him as she put the tie back in the drawer and picked up a teal and pink striped tie and put it on top of the shirt.

"This? Are you sure? I mean, this is something I'd wear to work."

"Yes and it's perfect. See – you wear the jacket there and if, when you get there, the men have jackets then you leave yours on and everything's fine. If the men aren't wearing jackets, then let them hang it up with the others."

"Shouldn't I be a little more dressed up then this though?"

"No, you still want to be yourself, Spence. This is good. You'd pick this outfit out, right?"

"Well, yeah, I would."

"That's good. You want to still look like you." J.J. picked up the silver pocketwatch Calliope had given him from the dresser and placed it on top of the black vest she'd laid on the bed. "Ok, Spence, you give me Henry and get dressed."

"Thanks J.J." Spencer handed her his godson and watched the two leave the room. He changed quickly, slipped on some black shoes and walked out of the bedroom.

"Perfect. You look great, Spence. Here, hold Henry for a sec so I can fix your tie. It's lopsided."

"You think she'll like it?" Spencer asked, fidgeting as he took his godson and J.J. loosened his tie and reset it.

"Well I can't know for sure because I _still haven't met her_! Hint, hint. But if she has any taste at all, and I suspect she does because she's with you, she will love it," J.J. stepped back and put her hands on her hips. "Spencer Reid, you are some serious handsome. And with a baby too. Mmm, mmm, mmm." Spencer chuckled as J.J. took her son back and gave Spencer a one-armed hug and kissed his cheek. "She's a lucky girl, Spence."

ooo ooo ooo ooo

Driving up the driveway, Spencer felt like he'd driven into another world – a world full of Mercedes, Lexus', and BMWs. For a moment he thought he was going to stick out like a zucchini in a bag of potatoes in his beat up sixty-five Volvo, but he turned the corner and the large parking lot came into view housing a whole variety of different vehicles in a range of conditions.

Sighing in relief, he parked between a rusted Dodge pickup and a sleek black Jaguar. He pulled the key out of his ignition and got out into the cold, closing and locking the car behind him. Taking in the surroundings, Spencer slowly walked to the large, intimidating white plantation house – mansion would be a more appropriate word. This place could not have been farther from his childhood home in Las Vegas and he couldn't imagine growing up here.

Since Calliope had told him about Dahlia, he had managed to resist researching the plantation and the Seller family history. He wanted to enjoy having her tell him. All he knew about Dahlia was that it was started in 1694, which had been engraved on the stone marquee at the entrance. But, now that he was here, he wished he knew _something._

He walked up the fifteen steps to the open front doors and was greeted by one of the four doormen holding clipboards.

"Name and ID please, sir?"

"Dr. Spencer Reid." He fished in his pocket and pulled out his ID and handed it to the doorman.

"FBI? What does the FBI want with Dr. Sellers And Calliope?"

"I'm not here as an agent, only as a guest. That's just my ID."

"Ah, sorry. Just a second, let me find your name. Reid… Reid… there you are. Have a good night, Dr. Reid," the doorman smiled and handed Spencer his ID back.

"Thank you." Spencer smiled, tucked his ID back into his pocket, and walked into the door and, after taking J.J.s' advice and checking the other guests, handed his jacket to the coatroom attendant when he was asked.

The foyer he stood in was massive and even at six-foot-one he felt tiny. There were easily a hundred and fifty people present and more pouring in behind him, so he let himself be shuffled to the wall, an area he was familiar with. He was always more comfortable sitting on the sidelines watching but, for all his watching, he couldn't spot Calliope anywhere.

There was a loud holler from the second story and Spencer looked up to see his muse leaning over the banister waving, Dr. Sellers standing next to her. Unsure if she was waving at him, he tentatively raised his hand – along with every other person in the room. He saw how every single face he saw was lit up and smiling as they watched Calliope. She was obviously well loved by everyone but it was almost as if they were waiting for her to do something.

"Thanks for coming everyone! Grandpa and I are so glad that all of you are here to bring in 2009 with us here at Dahlia! I know most of you are return guests to our new years bash, but we do have some new party members this year –" Calliope had to wait for a moment for the applause to stop before she could continue. "So, for our new friends I'll do a run down.

"On your left you'll see a set of large French doors, that is Charlotte's Ballroom where you are welcome to dance until your feet fall off. On your right and thru the arch is the White Room or, as I like to call it, Calliope's Childhood Time-Out Room where a huge buffet is set up. If you don't eat it, we'll be finishing it off for three months, so please, if you love me, you will eat.

"If you follow the very old family paintings past Charlotte's Ballroom there is a the library where a cornucopia of games have been set up, all of which are kid friendly. Go the opposite direction past Calliope's Time Out Room and there is a room that we have set up as a makeshift movie theater and a tower of DVDs and I will let you fight over what gets played. Be out back by the fountain right before midnight or you will completely miss out.

"So! Without further ado, lets get this party started!" Not missing a beat, Calliope hopped up on the banister and Spencers heart stopped.

'_She's not going to slide down that staircase… Please, Calliope, don't slide down that – And there she goes.'_

Spencer watched, terrified and holding his breath, as she slid down with her hands in the air as naturally as if she were riding a rollercoaster. He didn't breath again until she hopped off and landed on her feet to a round of applause. Calliope was twenty feet away from him and it was hard to resist striding over to her and kissing her, not letting her out of his reach.

But he stayed back, watching as she, obviously in her element, greeted all the people around her. Everybody loved her; he knew that, it was easy to see. They loved her for all the reasons he loved her. He knew he loved her. He knew that with the same certainty he knew his name and rank. He also knew that he wasn't ready to tell her yet.

He waited, leaning against the wall and watched. Calliope was beautiful. A quirky beautiful: she would never grace a magazine or win a beauty pageant, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her and neither could several of the other men in room. Part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her and glare at any man who dared look at her, but he knew he wouldn't. Instead, he waited.

In the end, waiting paid off when she caught his eye and winked at him. It took a few minutes more before she could break away, but when she did she slipped through the throng of people straight to him.

"Hey there, Mr. Magic," her voice was barely above a whisper as she slipped snuggly into his arms and wrapped hers around his waist.

"Hi Sweetheart," he returned, dipping his head slightly and kissing her. "You've gotten taller," he teased, kissing her again. "Heels?"

"Four inches. You like my party dress? My heels match!" She spun around in front of him making the bright fuchsia skirt flair up. If a persons personality could be captured in a garment, this dress captured Calliope completely. The dress was strapless, synced at the waist with a ruched sash, and fell just above her knees. A mixture of different sized, different coloured plastic circles were sewn to the bodice and skirt. She was wearing bright yellow heels that matched the huge bow clipped to the headband nestled in her curled hair.

"The dress is almost as beautiful as you."

"You, my love, are a complete and utter suck up," she giggled as she pressed herself against him, snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her. "And it serves you oh so well, Spencer."

"Calliope Kirsten, have you forgotten every thing that I've taught you?"

Calliope grinned widely and grabbed Spencers' hand, "C'mon, String Bean. There's someone really special I want you to meet." He let her drag him away from the way and tried to find who had spoken, but with so many people picking out a single one was hard. She stopped suddenly and he managed to halt without smashing into the back of her. In front of them stood a small, withered woman who had a look about her that made Spencer think she could take on Morgan.

"Spencer, I'd like you to meet my Mammy, Brenda Sellers. Mammy, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, my boyfriend."

Spencer shook the thin brown hand Brenda offered, "It's nice to meet you, Ma'am."

"You taking good care of my baby girl?" were the first words that small woman said to him.

"I hope so, Ma'am," Spencer said, smiling.

"He takes very good care of me, Mammy, when I let him that is." She giggled and squeeze his hand.

"Are you sleeping with my Callie, Dr. Reid?"

"Mammy!"

He squeezed her hand the tiniest bit before replying, "No, actually, we're, um, we're not sleeping together. Ms. Sellers, Calliope means more to me then sex."

"Good. She should. She's very, very special."

"I think so too."

Calliope smiled and leaned against him. "I really like him, Mammy. So be nice to him. He means a whole lot to me. I have to go and play the good hostess bit, Spencer. I'll be back soon, ok?" She smiled and kissed him before giving his hand a last squeeze and disappearing into the crowd.

"She loves you."

Startled, Spencer turned around and started at her. "Excuse me? I don't think I, um, I don't think I heard you properly."

"She. Loves. You." Brenda Sellers stared at him. "What? Are you stupid?"

"No, Ms. Sellers. I'm not stupid, quite the opposite." Spencer didn't like the way this woman was staring at him; it made him uncomfortable and flustered.

"Do you love Callie?"

Spencer didn't answer, instead he just stared at her the way she was staring at him. Oddly enough, he had the same feeling he had whenever he was staring down an unsub in an interrogation room and that unnerved him a bit.

"Let me spell this out for you, Mr. Reid –"

"Dr. Reid."

"Dr. Reid. I've raised Callie since she was two weeks old. I was there when she rode a two-wheeler for the first time, I was the one who rushed her to the emergency room when she cracked her head open jumping off the roof."

"Wait, what? She jumped off the roof? _This_ roof? How old was she?"

"I was there when she got her first crush, when she went to the prom and when she got her acceptance letter to Washington and Lee. I was there when she discovered painting, when she discovered how much she loved it, how she was meant to paint. Have you seen her paint, Dr. Reid?"

"No, Ms. Sellers. I haven't. She won't let me watch her. Calliope says that watching her paint is too intimate. I've never painted, so I just trust her."

"She's her most beautiful when she's painting, Dr. Reid."

"She's always beautiful."

"Yes, she is. Dr. Reid, I want to like you."

"I'd like for you to like me too, Ma'am."

"Dr. Reid, Calliope has never brought any man home. Ever. She's gone on dates, went to prom with someone, but she has never, ever brought someone home for us to formally meet. You must be very special to her, Dr. Reid, for her to have brought you here and introduced you as her boyfriend."

"Ms. Sellers, you mean the world to Calliope and I think it's safe to say she means everything to you. I, um, I really care about her, about Calliope. I really do. In answer to your question, yes, I do love Calliope, but I'm not ready to tell her yet. So please, I um, I would really appreciate it if you would keep that to yourself. I will tell her. When I'm ready to."

Brenda sized him up and nodded. "Good. Make sure you act like a gentleman around her, Dr. Reid."

"Spencer. I'm only Dr. Reid at work."

"What do you do, Spencer?"

"I work for the FBI. I'm a, uh, a profiler for the BAU – the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We create profiles to help us find and capture serial criminals based on their behavior and how they act out their crimes."

She spent the next forty-five minutes interrogating him, asking him about his job, why he choose such a gruesome career when he could do almost anything, where he grew up and so on. He answered her questions, glossing over those about his mother and the details of his job.

She sized him up one last time before saying, "My Callie has good taste in everything. Her grandfather and I have taught her well. Of all the men Calliope could choose, she's choosen to love you. She's decided that you are who she wants. Don't make her regret that choice, Spencer."

He watched her turn and walk away without another word and felt a full breath fill his lungs for the first time since Calliope walked away. Spencer ran a hand through his hair and stopped a waiter, "Scotch?"

When the young man said yes, Spencer grabbed a glass and downed it before placing the glass back on the tray. He massaged his temples and the middle-aged black man next to him chuckled. "You're Calliope's date, aren't you?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yes. I'm Calliope's boyfriend. How could you tell?"

"You look like you've just been run over by one of our tractors. Ms. Brenda tends to produce that appearance."

"Thanks."

"Hey Joseph!"

"What are you doing? No! Stop! Don't call somebody else over."

"Did you find him, Mark?"

"Sure did. Ms. Brenda's harvester tracks are still fresh."

Spencer sighed and grabbed another glass of Scotch, making Mark laugh as the man named Joseph sauntered over.

"Fresh meat," Joseph laughed, slapping Spencer on the back. "Scrawny meat, anyways. So how are you, Dr. Reid?"

"How'd you know my name?"

"Every person who works on this plantation knows your name and about half of them have thought up ways to kill you if you hurt Miss Calliope. I know all 1,249 acres of Dahlia, Mr. FBI, and if you fuck up not a single person will ever be able to find your body."

"Good to know," was the only thing Spencer said as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Uncle Joseph, Uncle Mark, what are you doing?"

"Just getting to know Dr. Reid, Callie."

"Getting to know doesn't usually include threatening death. Or did they broaden the definition since the last time I checked?" Joseph laughed and returned the hug Calliope gave him before she moved to hug Mark. "You two better be nice. I like him. Y'all are gonna scare him off."

She took a sip of her martini, snuck her hand into his, and waved to the two men as she pulled him away.

"You couldn't have given me some warning, Sweetheart?" he whispered as he kissed the top of her head.

Calliope looked up at him, blushing furiously, "I was afraid if I told you this would happen you wouldn't come."

"I would have come," he told her, "but I could have been a bit more prepared for Brenda Sellers."

"I'm really sorry, Spencer. I'll make it up to you later." He closed his eyes as she pulled his head still down and took his mouth with hers, teasing his lips with the tip of her tongue. "I promise."

ooo ooo ooo ooo

Her lips were soft against his and he held her tight as the sky lit up with fireworks and people shouted variations of 'happy new years!' and 'happy 2009!" all around them.

"Happy New Years, String Bean," she murmured against his mouth.

"Happy New Years," he returned, kissing her again. "Happy New Years, Sweetheart."

ooo ooo ooo ooo

The last of the guests were leaving when Spencer shrugged on his jacket and Calliope was waving people off and calling last goodbyes. She turned around and saw him, placing her hands on her hips.

"Where exactly do you think you're going, Dr. Reid?"

"Home? Back to Quantico?"

Calliope snorted and took his jacket off for him, "You are not driving two hours back to Quantico on New Years."

"I haven't had that much to drink, Sweetheart. I'm not drunk."

"I know you're not, but other people are. Plus, you're tired and you shouldn't drive two hours when you're tired. I already have a guest bedroom set up for you, String Bean. You're staying here."

"I never get to make my own choices when I'm with you, do I?"

"Only every once in a while, Mr. Magician. She closed the door as the last guest left and locked up, turning on the three different alarm key pads. "Mammy? Everyone out?"

"Yes. Everyone's gone, Callie. Your grandpa just turned on the gate alarms and Joseph and Mark are checking the grounds – they'll be out in a few minutes."

"Brenda lives here?"

Calliope nodded, checking the security cameras, "Yes. The three of us: me, Grandpa, and Mammy. Well, technically I don't live here anymore and Grandpa has another home in Fredericksburg, but he still lives at Dahlia most of the time.

"Uncle Mark and Uncle Joseph are leaving now, Mammy. Both their cars are out right… now. Gate's closing as we speak and the light from the alarm just lit up. I'm going to bed, Mammy, Grandpa. I love you!"

"I love you too, Peanut." Brenda and Dr. Sellers both called from another room.

Spencer smiled and kissed her again. Hugging her tightly, he asked, "So if you won't let me go home, were am I sleeping, Sweetheart?"

"Third floor. That's our personal part of the house. The rest has been converted to a hotel and restaurant. C'mon. I'll show you." She tugged his hand and he followed her up the stairs.

Finally they came to the top of the stairs and a large French door that was obviously not a part of the original structure of Dahlia. There was no lock on the door, no handles either. Instead, to the right of the doorframe, there was a sophisticated screen that Spencer had never seen outside of government buildings. Calliope pressed her palm against the pad and a green light flashed above the door and Calliope pushed it open.

"Safty precautions," she explained to Spencer as she pulled him through and carefully closed the door behind them. "You can pick a lock. This, not so much."

Calliope led him down the right hallway and pushed open the last door. "This is your room and this –" she to the door a few feet away "is my room. There are two doors in your bedroom, one's a closet an the other is a bathroom. I'll let you figure out which is which." She turned to him and smiled before kissing him goodnight and slipping into her own bedroom.

Once inside that room, he was changed into the pajamas she had left on the chair and slipped into the bed. It wasn't until his head hit the pillow did he realize how tired he really was and was intensely glad he didn't have to drive all the way back to Quantico.

He was almost asleep when he heard a scuffling noise from the corner of the room and he sat up to watch a small, square panal in the wall push itself open and Calliope crawl through.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, wiping a hand over his face. She replaced the panal and climbed onto the bed and under the covers.

"This," she murmured as she kissed him.

"What? No. Calliope, you have to stop. There are two other people in this house who would kill me if they –"

"Hush up, Spencer. They're not going to find out. Besides, I'm a big girl, a whole twenty-six years old, we don' need their permission," she whispered, kissing him again, burying her fingers in his hair and entangling herself with him.

"I just assured your mammy that we weren't sleeping together," he mumbled between kissing her.

"This doesn't feel like sleeping," she teased.

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that right?," he told her. "I'm going to die and the M.E. isn't going to be able to figure out why. The only thing they're going to be able to put under 'cause of death' is 'Calliope Sellers'."

"Sounds like a plan, Dr. Reid," she giggled as she pinned his hands and kissed him, pushing him on his back and crawling on top of him. She kissed his jaw, his neck, his Adams apple, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, gripping the fabric of her nightgown as he pulled her tighter against him.

"Calliope, we can't do this. We're in your grandfather's house, Calliope. He'd kill me."

"Actually, Dahlia's mine. Grandpa already legally transferred Dahlia to me. Something about 'just in case' crap. So, stop worrying, Spencer," she kissed him again.

Everything in him wanted to keep kissing her, to never stop, to see where this went, but he couldn't stop hearing Brenda Sellers' voice in the back of his mind.

"Stop, please. Sweetheart," Spencer hugged her against his chest and kissed her forehead. "We can't do this here, Calliope. I want them to like me and –"

"String Bean, it's ok. And, just so you know, you weren't going to get anything besides this tonight, anyways. You're protesting for no reason," she snuggled close to him, tucking herself against his side, her head on his chest, and kissed his neck again, starting to yawn.

"You better go back to your room," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair.

"No, here." She murmured, shaking her head.

"I told her I wasn't sleeping with you, Sweetheart."

"This isn't sleeping with me. It's sleeping _beside_ me. You're a genius, you should know the difference between your prepositional phrases."

"Death of me," he told her again, kissing her.

"Are you happy, Spencer?"

"Am I happy? What kind of question is that?" Spencer kept running his fingers through her hair, realizing she liked it. "Of course I'm happy. I'm with you, Sweetheart, how could I not be happy?"

"I'm happy too," she whispered, smiling, and he watched her eyes drift closed. He waited until he was sure she was asleep before tugged the down comforter around them and closing his own eyes.

He fell asleep holding her close and knowing there was no other place he wanted to spend the first hours of 2009 then sleeping with her in his arms.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Happy New Years!!**

**There's a picture of Calliope's dress in my Photobucket under the album "Calliope's Outfits." It's a pretty epic dress, so you should go look at it. XD**

**Thanks for reading! I hope you like it and stick around for the second half of this story! Please tell me what you think, good or bad!**

**Love, Thalia**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.**

* * *

"_Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they where the big things." – Robert Brault_

o o o o

1 January, 2009

Spencer stretched as he blinked himself awake, his arm bumping against something solid and warm. He rolled over onto his side and smiled sleepily when his eyes fell on Calliope curled in a ball a couple inches away, facing towards him, her arm reaching out and her slim fingers tangled in his hair. Carefully keeping his head still, he slowly reached back, grabbed his phone off the bedside table and checked the time. Shesh, why did he always wake up early even when he didn't have to?

The morning sunrise was flooding through the east-facing window and for the first time Spencer realized how bright the room was. The walls were painted a vivid golden yellow and the curtains framing the windows were a rich dark red that matched the comforter he and Calliope were buried underneath. The hardwood floor, baseboards and crown molding were gleaming and Spencer was sure they were polished with more regularity than anything is his apartment was dusted.

The art on the wall didn't match with the idea of an antebellum plantation house, but they did match with Calliope and he was almost sure the paintings were by her. One painting was of a bunch of children laughing and eating cotton candy on a carousel, bright colours everywhere. The second showed the castle at Disney World and what he could tell was a four or five-year-old Calliope sitting on Dr. Sellers' shoulders while Brenda pushed an empty stroller.

Looking away from the paintings, he saw the bookshelf in the corner by a comfortable looking arm chair in which sat a set of clothing on which he would have bet money that Calliope had bought and set out for him, knowing she was going to trick him into staying at Dahlia. When he reached the top shelf, his mouth fell open and it was all he could do not to jump out of the bed to see those books. The sale of just that top shelf at auction would probably pay more then a decade at the Bureau.

He rolled onto his side and smiled again. She looked so innocent when she was sleeping – he knew better than to actually believe that, but she still looked it. Gently teasing her fingers loose from his hair, he pushed the covers back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He pushed off only to be pulled back. Confused, he turned back and laughed when he saw Calliope holding the edge of his shirt and her eyes barely opened.

"I have to go to the bathroom, Sweetheart. I'll be right back."

Nodding groggily, she let go and he slide out of the bed. Opening the first door, he came face to face with what looking like an entire couture dress shop that doubtlessly chronicled Calliopes' life. So he closed that door and found success with the other while he was almost positive he heard Calliope laughing sleepily.

Before going back into the bed, he walked over to the bookshelf and carefully took several books from the top shelf. Putting the books next to his phone on the end table, he slipped back into the bed and kissed the top of Calliopes' head as she snuggled into the crook of his arm and rested her head on his chest.

"Go back to sleep, Sweetheart. I'm sorry I woke you up."

Calliope muttered something unintelligible and nestled closer as he starting running his fingers through her hair, coaxing her back to sleep. He picked up a first edition of _Englands Helicon_, a 230-page collection of Elizabethan lyrical poetry accumulated by John Flasket. He couldn't believe that he was holding a four hundred and nine year old book. For almost half millennia old, the book was in fantastic shape.

"Margaret Sellers brought… England… 1690." Calliope yawned, her eyes half closed and speech slited . "Was favorite. Gift … husband, Henry Sellers."

"Do you mind if I…"

"Naw. Just careful. Fragile."

"Go back to sleep, Calliope. You're exhausted."

"Why up? Seven thirty. Didn't sleep 'til three."

"I'm weird, you know that. Now go back to sleep."

"Kiss."

"Only if you promise to go back to sleep."

"One step 'head you." He kissed her softly and smiled when she tucked her head back, her eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing returning to the evenness of sleep. He brushed the tip of his finger over the writing on the front of the book before opening the cover and greedily pouring over the words.

The sun was high in the sky and he'd taking his time reading through delicate first editions of _Englands Helicon_, _A Divine Looking Glass_, _Wuthering Heights_,_The Christian Virtuoso_, and the two volumes of _Don Quixote_ before Calliope stirred again. Putting down _Don Quixote_, Spencer brushed a messy chunk of blue and red hair out of her eyes as she yawned and blinked several times.

"Morning," she mumbled and stretched.

"Morning, Sleepyhead."

"Coffee. Need coffee."

The grandfather clock in Charlotte's Ballroom chimed ten forty-five as Spencer followed Calliope into the kitchen and was overwhelmed with onslaught of sugar and dough and chocolate.

"Mmmm… Mammy, you made my favorite…" Calliope mumbled as she stumbled towards the coffee pot and poured two large mugs full. Handing one to Spencer, she moved the sugar bowl in front of him and rolled her eyes as he shoveled in sugar. "Careful, Spencer. You'll become a diabetic."

"Says the woman piling three of those… what are those?"

"Chocolate chip chocobuns." The affect the few sips of coffee she'd taken were already apparent in her speech and she looked far more alert than just a few moments ago.

"What?"

"It's the same concept as cinnamon buns, but better. The dough has hazelnut and chocolate chips, chocolate paste holds it together in the spirals, and then it's topped with chocolate frosting and drizzled with white chocolate and hazelnut. Nom nom nom!" Calliope ripped a chuck of one of the huge sticky buns and shoved it in her mouth happily.

"It's a wonder you're not five-hundred pounds, Callie." Ben Sellers commented as he sipped his coffee and turned the page of the newspaper. Brenda and Spencer laughed as Calliope struggled to swallow the wad of pastry in her mouth to retort.

"I know. It's a medical miracle. I should be studied."

"Sweetheart, you, um, you've got frosting on your nose." Spencer tucked his lips in, trying not to laugh as she went cross-eyed trying to see the frosting before scraping it off and popping it in her mouth.

ooo ooo ooo ooo

"I can't believe it's this cold," Calliope smiled as she itched her nose with her gloved hand and held Spencers' with the other.

"It's January. Of course it's cold, goof. It's snowing and 23 degrees. Where are you taking me?"

"One of my favorite places. Not too much farther, String Bean."

"Is that the original plantation house?" Spencer asked as the red brick colonial house came into view as they breached the hill.

"Yup. That's where Henry and Margaret Sellers lived. Henry was a ridiculously exclusive merchant and a scholar back in England before they came over. They had seven children, James, William, Henry, Sarah, Constance, John and Nan. James became a priest, William died during a fox hut when he was 19. He was thrown off his horse. Henry took over the plantation, John died of small pox as a child, Constance had three children with another plantation owner dude, and Nan was an old maid. Sarah's my favorite. She flamboyantly disgraced the family by marrying a penniless apocrathry. Between you and me, I think I'm her reincarnation. Bringing scandel and shame to the Sellers family name!"

He laughed as she let go of his hand and took an elaborate bow. She looked at him and then looked at the brick building before taking off, screaming "Race you!" at the top of her lungs. The ground was icy and the pair slipped and slid their way down the hill. Calliope was ten feet from the house when she slipped on a patch of ice and skid on her back, laughing hysterically, the rest of the way before crashing into the colonial house.

"Calliope!" Worried, Spencer ran towards where she'd crashed only to slip on the same patch of ice and go skidding after her. He managed to miss colliding with her by a fraction of an inch, but there was no missing the brick wall. He lay on his back next to her trying to catch his breath as he listened to her snort with frenzied laughter.

"You're going to be the death of me, Calliope Sellers," he told her when his lungs had filled with air again. This declaration only seemed to egg on her hysteria and she couldn't seem to catch her breath from laughter. Spencer tried not to, but he soon found himself laughing along with Calliope and before long he was out of breath again.

"You gotta admit," Calliope gasped as she rolled on her side to look at him, "That was fun."

"You're insane," he told her before cupping a gloved hand behind her neck and kissing her.

"Insane or not, you like me," she breathed in a sing-song voice as she wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed him back.

"Yes, I do."

The two were engrossed in each other to the point that neither fully registered the cold from the ground beneath them seeping through their coats or the snow crunching under approaching footsteps.

"Yall are gonna freeze ta death if yall don't get up, Callie, Dr. Reid," the deep baritone voice had profoundly different effects on the two prone figures. The taller of the two jerked back and scrambled upright, while his companion rolled onto her back and fell once again into a fit of laughter.

"Afternoon, Spencer."

"G-Good afternoon, Joseph," He shook the mans hand and knew his face was flushed as brightly red as was physically possible. Calliope pushed herself off the ground and stood up, stumbling a bit before finding her footing.

"What are you doing here, Uncle Joseph? I thought you had the day off."

"I do, but Ben always forgets to feed the animals when Dahlia's closed, so it's just easier for me to come feed 'em myself."

"Dahlia would burn down without you, Uncle Joseph." Calliope laughed as she hugged the man.

"Have you introduced him to Esther yet?"

"Not yet. Saving that for later."

"Mmkay, Ima go feed them horses."

"Bye, Uncle Joseph!"

"Remember what I said, boy."

"Uncle Joseph! Be nice!" Calliope shook her head and rolled her eyes as she took Spencers' hand in hers and led him into the house. "Close the door, Spencer. Don't wanna let all this nice, warm bought air out."

"He's not really going to kill me, is he?" Spencer asked as he closed the door behind him, tossing his jacket and gloves on top of where she had tossed hers.

"I dunno. I've never had a boyfriend before, so you're the first one to test out that particular threat." Calliope flipped the light switch and Spencer couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as he tugged her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, enjoying the way she leaned back against his chest as his arms encircled her slim shoulders.

"Never had a boyfriend? You? I find that hard to believe."

"All the guys just wanted to date me for my name, not for me. They didn't care to get to know me or anything. I guess they just assumed I was some easy heiress floosy. Hah! They had another think comin' and I had a shit-ton of fun givin' it to them. What about you? I can't be your first girlfriend."

"Calliope, I graduated high school before I hit puberty. "

"Yeah, well you've grown up a lot since then, Dr. Reid," she said slyly, snagging a kiss, "That, I can most definitely attest to."

"Calliope!"

"What?" she asked, widening her eyes and looking up at him innocently.

"Joseph wants to kill me and you're –"

"No one can hear us in here, Mr. Magician. These thick, old walls are awesome like that. See yes, hear no."

"See?"

"Cameras. We're in a museum, can't you tell?"

For the first time, Spencer looked around and was amazed to realize she was right. Slipping out of his arms, Calliope pulled him over to the display nearest.

ooo ooo ooo ooo

"Calliope, I'm really, really not good around horses." Spencer stood his back against the stall wall as Calliope fed the chestnut thoroughbred a carrot.

"Calm down, Spencer. She knows your scared."

"Of course she knows I'm scared. Pheromones have already told her that."

"Maybe. You know, a lot of scienists have proven that pheromone communication is only achievable within the same species. It's impossible for Esther to interpret your fear through smell because you're not a horse. She knows your afraid because of the way you're acting. What they see and hear are more important in prompting behavioral responses in horses. Horses are smart – she's picked up the fact that you're scared because you're acting scared. C'mere, String Bean, she's not going to hurt you. Esther's really just a big sweetie."

Spencer cautiously edged away from the wall and very slowly made his way to stop next to her.

"Spencer, my love, you are the biggest baby I know." She rolled her eyes kissed Esther's nose and rubbed her neck. "Yeah, he's such a big baby, isn't he, Esther? Imagine, someone being afraid of you. You're just a big ole teddybear aren't you? Yeah, you are."

"You don't understand. Animal's don't like me, Calliope."

"Well then, you're in luck, String Bean, Esther doesn't realize she's a horse. She thinks she's a human."

"Human's don't like me much either."

"Psht. Shut up and give me your hand."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to give Esther an apple. Now just hold your hand out flat like this."

"She's not going to bite me, is she?"

"Not if you do what I tell you to. For a federal agent, you sure are a chicken, Dr. Reid. Esther's not going to hurt you. Hold out your hand like I showed you. No, uncurl your fingers, Spencer. Your hand needs to be flat. Like this.

"Ok, good. I'm going to put the apple in your hand. All you need to do is keep your hand still and flat and not freak out. Esther will do the rest." She placed the apple in his hand and Esther took a few steps towards him and started eating the apple out of his hand. "See, she likes you, String Bean."

Esther chomped happily on the apple and nuzzled Spencers' shoulder with her nose.

"Call – Calliope, why is she licking my face?"

"She's thinking, Spencer. Esther licks when she's thinking. Um… it's kind of like the way you fiddle your fingers when you're thinking."

"I don't fiddle my fingers."

"Of course you don't, Mr. Magician. I'll be right back."

"Be right back? No, Calliope, don't leave me alone with her."

"You'll be fine, goof. I'm just going to get her saddle."

"Saddle? Saddle? Calliope, please don't make me…"

"Hush up and pet the pretty pony, you big wuss."

"You mean the gigantic death machine?"

"She is no more a death machine than I am. Shut up, Spencer!" He was still laughing when she returned and chucked the bit at him. Calliope arranged the emerald green saddle pad over the horses' back before slinging the saddle over. By the time Calliope had finished getting the saddle adjusted and the bit and bridle in place, Spencer was tentatively rubbing Esthers' nose. "See, hun? She's not so scary. C'mon. Do you want to lead her out of the stall?"

Spencer shook his head frantically and followed her as she led Esther through the barn and out into the open air. He watched in amazement as Calliope put one hand on the horn and vaulted herself into the saddle.

"How did you do that?"

"Lots of practice. Stand on the steps there. Yes, those."

"I'm not getting on that horse."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, trust me, I'm not."

"Spencer, we both know which of us has the stronger will. You're getting on Esther. Ohh, dirty." Calliope giggled as she grabbed the shoulder of Spencers' jacket and slowly eased Esther forwards, effectively dragging the poor man over to the steps. "You have to face your fears sometime, String Bean. Today's the day. Esther's perfectly safe; you'll be fine."

"It's safer on the ground."

"Every time we choose safety, we reinforce fear."

"Cheri Huber."

"Yup."

"Calliope, the first and last time I was on a horse, I was six. My mom, she, uh, she decided that she was going to take me horse back riding. The man said that the horse I was on, Buttercup, was one of the most docile animals alive. Wouldn't hurt a fly. Halfway through the trailride, Buttercup paniced, over what I don't know, and threw me off. I flew, hit a tree and broke my arm and needed twenty-three stitches in my forehead. I am not getting on that horse."

Smiling softly, Calliope swung her leg over and dropped to the ground. She took his hand and walked him over to the patiently waiting equine. Pressing his palm against the neck, she guided his hand down to the shoulderblades.

"She's strong. Feel her muscles."

"Yeah, it's those muscles I'm afraid of."

"Shhh, close your eyes, Spencer. Concentrate on what you feel."

"What am I supposed to feel?"

"Spencer, hush." Calliope chuckled and smoothed his hair back. "You talk more than any man I've ever met."

"And yet you like me."

"Yes, I do." She kissed him before continuing, "But I'd like you more if you'd be quiet and close your eyes."

"Ok, ok." Spencer closed his eyes and let her guide his hand over the horse.

"Her flank, these pull the hind legs forward, these move them back, tensor muscles, hamstrings, these help her front legs move back, these move them forward, chest muscles. You can feel her strength, these muscles have a lot of power. Her back is short, but her neck is long. Up here, feel, that's the withers – the ridge between her shoulderblades – hers are high. She has a deep chest and right there… do you feel that, Spencer? That's her heart."

"Should we really be this close to her legs? What if she –"

"String Bean, stop worrying. She hasn't moved and she's not going to. She's quite happy chewing on my hair."

"She's chewing on your hair?"

"Yeah, I don't know why she does it. She's done it since she was a foal. Concentrate."

"On what? You're making me feel a horse."

"Ha, dirty."

"You're five."

"And you refuse to let yourself believe in anything that cannot be scientifically or logically explained. You're too scared to let something be explain solely by emotion and feeling."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Calliope, I…" Spencer turned to look at her, confused and a little hurt.

She vaulted back onto Esthers back and looked down at him. "You can't learn everything from books, String Bean. Not even you. Some things have to be experienced. You gonna face your fear today or not?"

He bit his lip and hesitated, but then he climbed the few steps next to him and awkwardly swung his leg over and and gripped her jacket tightly. He let her wrap his arms around her waist and listened when she told him where to keep his feet.

"You're… you're sure she's not going to do something weird?"

"You're going to be fine, Spencer. I promise." She nudged Esther forward and lead her out into the fields. Calliope laid her hand over where his connected around her waist and smiled as he tightened his grip. "We're only walking, Spencer. You're ok."

Calliope let Esther walked for a long time, silently letting Spencer face his fear. She could feel him slowly beginning to relax and his Vulcan Death Grip on her waist was loosening. They reached the top of a hill and Spencer leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

"How you holding up, String Bean?" Calliope asked, pulling Esther to a stop. "As bad as you thought?"

"No. It's not. What did you mean when you said I'm too scared to let anything be explained through emotions?"

Calliope turned around in the saddle and smiled at him. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I shouldn't have said that."

"What did you mean, Sweetheart? I, uh, I really want to know."

Slidding off of Esthers' back, Calliope held a hand out and helped Spencer down. She wrapped the reins around the saddle horn and let Esther wander, before sitting in the snow. Spencer sat down next to her and took her hand in his.

"I shouldn't have said scared. That wasn't the right word. Everything I said came out wrong. I'm sorry. I forget to think before I speak. You're not scared, I know that. I do. Spencer, you're incredibly smart. Hush, you. I know you know you're smart. Let me finish.

"You're brilliant. You have this amazing ability to learn and remember things and obtain knowledge. But because you've learned so much from books and school and educational medians, I don't think you've ever learned to learn any other way. And that's really sad.

"Don't get me wrong, education is great. I wouldn't have gotten my masters if I didn't think academic education was important. But there are so many other ways to learn, Spencer.

"Take Esther. If you weren't terrified of her, I would be willing to bet money on the fact that you would have been thinking about everything you've ever read about horses, thinking about horse statistics and facts. You would have been thinking about what traditional education had taught you about horses. But you never would have thought about what _Esther_ could teach _you_."

Spencer was silence, pensive, as Calliope pulled her hand from his and stood up. She put her thumb and middle finger in her mouth and let out a piercing series of whistles. Esthers' head rose from where she'd been munching on the bit of exposed grass she'd found and she let out a snort before trotting over and butting her nose against Calliopes' shoulder.

"Hey, Sweet Girl. Oh my gosh, you must have found the last living dandilion, Miss Esther. Well, it's been a good day for you then, hasn't it?" Calliope vaulted herself onto Esthers' back and nudged her forward with her heels as she unwound the reins and held them loosely in her hand, giving the horse as much room as she wanted. Leaning forward, Calliope bent her knees and lifted herself off the saddle.

Spencer watched her as she rubbed Esthers' neck and talk to her in a low voice he couldn't make out. He watched as she quickly went from trotting to cantering into a full out gallop with Calliope giving her more and more encouragement. As they ran it was almost hard to tell where one ended and the other began and impossible for him to distinguish who was making the decisions about where to run or how fast for how long.

Eventually, Calliope slowed Esther and brought her to a halt in front of Spencer. Responding to a pattern of clicks Calliope made with her mouth, Esther slowly lowered herself to the ground until she was lying in front of Spencer and Calliope shifted off, tugging a handful of sugar cubes out of her pocket and held them out.

"My horse's feet are as swift as rolling thunder. She carries me away from all my fears and, when the world threatens to fall asunder, her mane is there to wipe away my tears." Calliope sat in Spencers' last and leaned back against his chest, smiling contentedly as he enveloped her in his long arms and kissed her temple. "Bonnie Lewis. The poem's always been one of my favorite."

"She loves you. Esther, I mean," Spencer said, struggling to put his thoughts into accurate words.

"She better love me," Calliope giggled as Esther licked her boot. "I've raised her since she was born. Fifteen years this girl has gotten spoiled rotten. What are you thinking, String Bean?"

"I… I'm not sure. A lot of things. Kind of hard to decifer."

"You'll tell me when you do?"

"Sure, Sweetheart. If you want." Spencer held her as he watched her interact with the horse. _I love you_. "Calliope."

"What?"

"How do you… how do you do that?"

"Do what, String Bean?"

"Communicate with her. It's like she understands what you're saying."

"She does." Calliope turned her head back to look at him, smiling at him. "You're underestimating her again, Spencer. This is one of those things you can't learn from a book. Try something. Just go with me on this one. Say something to me and then say the next sentence to her. Don't use names, don't turn your head towards her, don't give any indication that you're switching targets."

"Ok… Um, you look beautiful today. I liked watching you run." Spencer jerked when Esther raised her head to look at him when he said the second sentence. "What the hell…"

"She knows, Spencer. She's just as smart as you ar – ok, maybe not _you _in particular, but Esther's just as smart as a human. She's just smart in different ways. Esther's worth about eighty or ninty thousand dollars as a broodmare. Maybe more. It's ridiculous how many guests try to talk me into selling her. Think that if they offer me enough money I'd get rid of my best friend. Her worth isn't in her lineage or her foals. It's in her heart.

"You can't learn about the heart in a text book. That's something you can only learn by experience, by doing, by _feeling_. A person can study all the equine textbooks in the world, but if that's all they know, if that's all they learn, they'd never be able to tell Esther from Chip. They have their own personailities, their own feelings, their own beings.

"It'd be like you reading a strictly factual autobiography of my life, String Bean. You'd know all about me – every scar, what I excelled at in school, my favorite flower – but you'd know nothing about who I am. To know me, you'd have to look beyond the facts. To fall in love with me, you have to learn what's inside me, not outside. You have to know my heart. The same with Esther. To know Esther, fall in love with her, you have to know her inside, not just that she's 17 hands tall or that she's a thoroughbred – you have to know her heart."

Spencers mind raced as he processed what Calliope said, remembering things Gideon had told him about needing to understand the internal of the unsub before they external behavior would fulling make sense, remembering his mother and _mothers know_.

He was thinking. She could tell. His fingers were fiddling with the button on his jacket sleeve. Spencer denied that he fiddled when he thought, but she'd seen him think enough in the past four months to know he rarely realized what his limbs were doing when his brain was preoccupied. She'd lost count of the cups of coffee she'd quickly saved from being knocked over, the number of magazines and newspapers she'd picked up off the floor and books she'd restacked. Sometimes she felt like she was following around an adorable, bumbling hurricane cleaning up the destruction left in its' wake.

"Spencer?" Calliope leaned back, resting her head on his shoulderblade and relaxed fully against him.

"Hmmm?" Spencer drew himself out of his thoughts and looked down at the muse resting in his arms.

"Don't let go, kay?"

"Never." Spencer tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her temple, and two sat next to the horse and watched quietly as the sun turned the sky orange and pink and red as it sunk lower over the hills, illuminating all of Dahlia beyond them.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Woah, so yeah, this is late. Sorry guys! In my defense, I got crazy sick. It was not a happy time.**

**Anyways, I really, really hope you like it!**

**Thanks for reading!!**

**Love, Thalia**


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